


Jealousy is the worst feeling

by Dan_de_lion



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But he is too much of an idiot to act on them, Feelings, Geralt has feelings too, He is just emotionally constipated to realise them, How Do I Tag, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, In caps because there's a lot of those, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, There will be fluff too, eventually, no beta we burn like Cintra, not too much though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dan_de_lion/pseuds/Dan_de_lion
Summary: It seemed almost as if Geralt was-.. flirting? Yes, now when he finally put a name to the actions, he recognized it. It was clear, obvious even, and he wanted scold himself for not seeing it earlier.Because, it wasn't like Geralt never flirted before. It just wasn't usually done in front of his eyes, or wholly at a place or time when he'd have the change to see it. Or notice for that matter, it seemed.  Of course, he knew that Geralt had sex, subconsciously at the very least, was aware that others did behold him as attractive. Not typically handsome, no, for that he was too scarred and, well, a wildcard; but he knew there were enough people out there who liked that bit of riskiness to spice things up.ORJaskier sees Geralt flirting at the inn and finds out he doesn't like it at all.Jealousy is a swine, and how can he act like nothing changed after he discovers his feelings for the man?Geralt is, as always, completely oblivious to the change.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 126





	Jealousy is the worst feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings! So, this is the first fic I've ever written - therefore, I'll be grateful for any reviews (just please, be gentle. My heart can't take harsh criticism from the start. Jk.. Or? 😳).
> 
> This all happened because I got asked to write a fic about jealous!Jaskier, because, apparently, there's not enough of those
> 
> Geralt is oblivious and Jaskier is an idiot, so prepare for a lot of angst (with happy ending, tho)
> 
> Also, I have no idea just how long this will get 🙆♀️

It was sunny and hot that day, both of them were already pretty exhausted from the long journey towards the next village, or well, Jaskier was. Geralt with his bottomless source of stamina seemed to be perfectly fine, about as basically always. 

Jaskier's legs hurt just a tiny bit more than what he would consider to be bearable, but, long since learned that complaining to the man was quite a pointless thing to do, he kept his mouth shut. Nothing would have changed either way, and the tour they were on was soon to be ending. In about an hour or so, according to Geralt at least.

He couldn't stop those occasional hopeful glances towards Roach, though. And after he'd done it for who-knows how many times, Geralt honoured him with a slightly annoyed look that said, perhaps too clearly, 'what do you want now, Jaskier?'

At that, he would turn his head and start talking about whatever that come to his mind at given moment. Geralt would sometimes answer with a grunt or a single word reply, or, if he felt particularly chatty, with a whole sentence.

As of lately, Jaskier found himself looking forward to those spare moments because, willingly or not, they would often became the only sounds he'd hear for days, his own voice irrelevant (he was not so full of yourself to be satisfied with only his tone, no matter how beautiful it might have been).

But deciding to not think about Geralt's voice, and instead taking his lute into hands, he started to jingle some melodies that had stuck into his head the other days, occasionally even opening his mouth to add some lyrics he happened to remember. The other, surprisingly, didn't say a word to stop him, only glared, then shrugged in disinterest and continued to pay attention to whatever he had been doing before.

Jaskier was half way through the chorus of an especially cheerful song when, rathen than hear, he felt Geralt stop. Giving him a curious look, the response he got was a soft "We are here."

"Finally" the younger replied with a relief, "I can't wait to take a rest and relaxe myself with some good ale." he added, mostly to himself, but Geralt with his, ever so perfect senses heard him nonetheless.

"First job, then rest."

"Yes, yes, pretend I didn't say a word." Jaskier uttered quickly with a yawn. He really felt rather tired and hoped that the other didn't plan to interrogate the entire town, though with him, he could never be sure.

And before Geralt had any chance of replying, if he was even going to, the bard promptly asked, "So, where are we going to start? At the Inn like usual," if yes, he could get at least part of his desire fulfilled, "or on the streets, searching for some posters?" where his legs would suffer even more. 

"Inn," the man in question grunted, and by the time Jaskier put away his precious lute, was already a couple of steps in front of him. Jaskier swiftly walked, or more precisely, run those few metres to caught him, mumbling something about ungrateful witchers the whole time. 

* * *

Opening the doors, the first thing Jaskier noticed was the atmosphere of the place; there was a constant chatter, a smell of freshly cooked food in the air and a lot (definitely more than usual) of people around, chatting and drinking their umpteen ales. Overall, they seemed too happy to be in need of a witcher and his minion, almost as if they were celebrating something. 

Geralt, however, didn't notice anything extraordinary, or, if he did, he didn't let it show on his face. Actually, he didn't even stop for longer than few seconds in order to quickly scan the room, or possibly, the potential danger that could await a man that stood out from the crow simply by his attire alone, no matter the long white hair and two dangerously gleaming swords, before continuing in his way. 

Unlike Jaskier, he didn't seem to care about what was going on as long as it didn't interrupt his work. A fact that the other was just a tad bit jealous of; Jaskier was always the type who cared what others thought of him, always wanted to be liked. 

He simply knew how to hide it better than most, learned it by a young age when he was barely old enough to decide for himself what he wanted to do with life. For a bard, it was an important, and most decidedly useful ability to adapt as soon as possible. 

Lost in thoughts, it took him a while to orient himself in this overfilled place. Finding Geralt, however, was not hard in any way, he just stood out too much. It was his presence, as Jaskier shortly found out. He could be wearing the most common clothes and people would still turn their heads in his direction, out of fear or out of wonder, often both. 

He spotted him near the counter, conversing with a man about Jaskier's own age. The stranger had dark, fairly messy hair and light eyes, though he wasn't able to tell what color yet as he was still at bay. He instantly thought that Geralt had either already found something for them to take care of, or was discussing a place for them to stay, possibly both as he knew the man; a dead monster in exchange for food and two beds. 

Either way, he went there to greet him, only to halt midstep when he came close enough to hear their conversation. 

"...so, how long do you plan on staying?" the darkhead asked in a tone that wasn't a mere formal curiosity to know how many nights Geralt and his companion would stay in the room, expressed politely by someone who had offered their services. No, it was definitely laid too low for that. And, he really did not imagine that wink. 

"Two-three days at most, but perhaps, I could remain a bit longer?" the voice that answered surely belonged to Geralt, he'd knew it even if he couldn't see him saying those words, but something wasn't the same. His friend was speaking in a tone he hardly ever heard him use, and even during those spare moments, it was never addressed at him. It was rougher than usual, albeit just a very lightly ( for a second he thought that he might be the only one to see the difference), and there was a slight undertone of something that sparked of interest in it. 

The other, who, as Jaskier managed to notice with somewhat nasty feelings deep down, smiled widely, showing his perfectly white teeth. Then, with familiarity he sparsely seen people having around the always frowning witcher, bended down to whisper something in Geralt's ear. 

Jaskier had no idea what it was because it was said too quietly for his own petite ears to reach. Thought he had no doubts that the one it was addressed to caught the meaning rather well. Judging solely by the nod and barely visible twitch of his lips. 

Geralt smiled. Wait, Geralt smiled? It was hardly noticable, yes, but it was definitely there. He had seen it with his own eyes, and was honestly quite confident in his abilities to decipher those small changes in his expression. The last time he remembered this happening was with Yennefer, and that was quite the time ago, perhaps a year even. 

It left him with an unexplainable feeling, seeing him like that, looking at the man with such an expression. He didn't know what he felt, exactly, probably didn't even truly want to recognize it, being subconsciously afraid of what it might be. The thing he was sure about, however, was that he did not like it. 

He didn't have a reason though, after all, nothing was out of ordinary, right? So why was his Geralt acting like- like he actually enjoyed the exchange, because there was no doubt he did. It was visible in the way he didn't push back from the man's hand that appeared on his shoulder, squeezing it ever so softly (when did he even actually managed to touch him?!), evident from the faint sparkle of excitement in his golden eyes, and overall, from the relaxed expression on his face.

It seemed almost as if Geralt was-.. flirting? Yes, now when he finally put a name to the actions, he recognized it. It was clear, obvious even, and he wanted scold himself for not seeing it earlier. 

Because, it wasn't like Geralt never flirted before. It just wasn't usually done in front of his eyes, or wholly at a place or time when he'd have the change to see it. Or notice for that matter, it seemed. Of course, he knew that Geralt had sex, subconsciously at the very least, was aware that others did behold him as attractive. Not typically handsome, no, for that he was too scarred and, well, a wildcard; but he knew there were enough people out there who liked that bit of riskiness to spice things up. 

So no, flirting Geralt was not something impossible. Why then though, did he feel so stunned at the sight of the two of them? 

His body was stiff, from shock that he was seeing this happening, and from the complete lack of idea how to react. He didn't know what to do. Should he stay there and wait for them to finish, or should he interrupt them as if he didn't take a note of anything out of ordinary? The first option was the polite one, a thing he would prefer himself too if he was in Geralt's place, but the second one he liked more. He didn't understand it, but he didn't want them together in such a closeness. 

And so, before his mind had the chance to revalue, his body moved on its own, bringing him towards them, close enough to be seen. There was a wide smile on his lips, and the words of "Geralt, don't just suddenly dissappear on me," followed closely by the "Well, have you ensured a place to stay, yet?" in his mind . 

All that, just for them to immediately die on his tongue when he saw the expression on the other's face when he finally took a notice of Jaskier. It was hardly decipherable, and would perhaps seem like nothing out of usual to a stranger's eye, but Jaskier knew better. Geralt didn't want to be intruded, had probably believed that the bard had already found a place at one of the tables there, celebrating with other guests, whatever the thing they celebrated was.

But even if it wasn't obvious from his expression, Geralt's words told him exactly the thing. "What do you want Jaskier? Why don't you just sit amongst those people and sing one of your songs. After all, hasn't that been your wish for the last two hours?" 

Oh, so Geralt /really/ didn't want to see him right now; alright, understood. He'll just find someone else to spend his time with, no big deal. 

Only, he couldn't find the enthusiasm in that thought. It was something he would usually enjoy, just doing nothing and relishing his free time by singing songs and ballads from all over the places to those common people, whose only adventures seemed to be a walk to fields, and the occasional monsters that wandered a bit too close from the forests or swamps from all around their villages. 

He tended to amuse himself by watching their unbelieving expressions when he told them that lyrics in his songs were true, found a pleasure in hearing the praise that would come shortly after, and most surely, liked the respect that followed when they found out he is /the/ companion of the famous Geralt of Rivia, the butcher of Blaviken. 

Right now, though, none of that hold any joy to him. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to be with the villagers or join their celebrations. He didn't even particularly wish to spend any more time with the man, having had enough during the week-long journey that he'd actually pay for some time out of his presence. It was simply that he opposed to the idea of leaving the witcher alone with the, honestly rather beautiful young man. 

"I,, okay. I'll try to round you up some information about our possible job here." there was nothing he could do about it. He did not want to go against Geralt's... whatever this was. "I'll see you later then!" he said his farewell and even managed to for a smile, more or less a sincere one. Not that Geralt would actually know the difference.

With one last look back, he left them and stepped out towards where the most people seemed to be, not that Geralt would actually notice if he decided to go elsewhere entirely, being too preoccupied with his new fuck, apparently. And now he was just being vulgar for no reason. 

However, as he was nearing the tables, he found himself not wanting to go. He sort of didn't feel his mood to be cheerful enough to sing happy songs, and singing the sad ones didn't seem like a good idea in this atmosphere. And so, with a sigh, he headed the other direction; towards the way out. In the next moment, he was opening the door and walking who-knows where, because he sincerely did not. The bard just walked.

Jaskier felt confused, and weirdly angry, unsure whether on Geralt's or his behalf, though for none of those he had an actual reason. Geralt flirted, so what? He did that often enough, surely; this was nothing new. 

'But you saw him' said a voice in his head, 'you saw him doing it for the first time since Yennefer,' He wanted to shout, damn it! This was nothing like him, he was not acting like himself in the slightest, and that irritated him.

Jaskier didn't turn back any more, but if he did, he might, just might, have noticed Geralt watching him go, a contemplating expression on his attractive face, the shine in his eyes fading out slowly yet surely. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos? 👀  
> (this is not the end, but for my life, I don't know how to adjust this as a multi chapter fic 😭)


End file.
